


Aid

by Plixs1



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Healing, Non-sexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7921600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plixs1/pseuds/Plixs1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An oddly chaotic, yet casual encounter between Mercy and Roadhog</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aid

Damaged heels rapidly tap on the floor. Kicking back any broken glass from beneath them. This hallway was nearly destroyed. Anything resting in it prior was now in pieces. Smashed up against the walls. Every door had been broken into,  if not broken in half. This place was already in bad shape before. A riot had broken loose in Kings Row, chaotic enough to call for Mercy’s hand. She’d been on the other side of the building before being called to a new emergency. Rushing down this corridor not to see a patient, but to rescue her fellow doctors.

There was a turn in her stomach when approaching the mangled door. Apparently, this was the work of one, unarmed, heavily injured man. Humans were capable of great feats under the right circumstances. Enough adrenaline matched with a narrow mind could post a real threat. With her skill, and even some luck, no more people would have to get hurt today. It was her job.

Mercy entered the room of distress. Quickly evaluating the situation. Inside, two doctors cling to the walls, visibly too afraid to move. A third employ holds up his pistol. Showing no experience in the matter of defense. The gun rattles in his trembling hands. Pointing to the cause of their distress.

Massive.

That was the word that hit her first. All that damage makes perfect sense at the sight before her. From where she stood, it was only his back she could see. Barren. All this man was spotting were dirty, unfitted overalls with unused straps, and black mask in the shape of a pig’s snout. There was bruising all over his skin. Deep cuts around the arms. Fresh from the fights no doubt. What made this more unsettling were the sounds. This room would have been death without the sounds of blood hitting the floor. Along with that heavy, wheezing.

A quick re-inspection shows his stance wasn’t for effect. He was leaning over a medical bed. There must be someone on it. Muffled by the mask he bore, a low growl comes from the man. Almost animalistic in nature. Glimpsing to her only a moment to focuses back on the armed doctor.

Her hand shot up. “Lower your weapon!” She demands of the comrade. Taking the rooms full attention.

“B-But,” The frightened doctor fails to argue. “This- This guy blew in here and tried ta-“

“I ordered you to lower your weapon. Now.” Her eyes meet the black spheres of the boar mask. Most certainly looking at her. “I’m here now. All out you, get out and help each other first. Then get back to seeing the other patients.” The lot did not make any attempt to fight again. They all scurried out of there fast. Mostly frightened. One may have had a broken arm, but the other two could handle that. Her business here was too… unique for anyone else to handle. For what was left of it, Mercy lightly pushed the door closed behind her. Not once looking away from her… patient.

One,

Two steps forward. No movement from him.

A few more, His posture straightens. The two have not broke eye contact.

Closer still, she approaches the bed. Starting to see the third party. When suddenly, a large hand grabs the bed’s side rims. Denying her a visual on the person lying there. The motion getting some blood on the sheets and Mercy herself.

“I’m a doctor. No harm will comes to you or your companion.” This lead to no change. The man even pulled the bed toward himself. About ready to take the whole damn thing with him. “Let me see him.” Her hand comes up, gently. “Then I will help you next.” Her tone continues to be firm. Soft. Certain. And -unknown to her- impressive. Access was granted to her, but the man standing hardly moved. She grazed him when getting between the two.

Who had layed there was a much younger man, missing limbs prior to this outbreak. On the right leg was an unprofessional prosthetic. Serving more as a peg-leg than a proper replacement. The right arm may have had something similar in build, had it not been blown off. Over each injury, her fingers move quickly. Evaluating priorities with unnecessary haste. Everything was already wrapped up that need to be. This man was only out from a clear blow to head. The bruising was going to take a while to heal, but it was no threat on his life. The doctors before her had time to handle this much. It was the one lingering over her that needed the real help.

“Looks like the others have already taken care of him. That’s good.” No threat of infection here.

Blood hits her shoulder. Mercy pushed against the observer to look up. The damage on his front was no better. Worse even. From this new angle, she finally caught sight of his face. The mask, really. It’s eye socket was broken. With lingering glass shards around the rim. From the ash lingering around, it must have been caused by an explosion as well.

“You should have been more concerned about yourself! Sit down” Demand present in her speech as she moves around him.

Rather than take any chair, the large man plants a spot down on the floor.

“Oh. That’s not what I…” She stops herself in realizing this was intentional. It was much easier to reach the wounds at this height. “Alright.” No more time for that. It was time to get to work.

She reaches for the mask- gasping as the same hand from before shoots up. Engulfing her forearm in his grip. It didn’t hurt her, much. It was merely a warning. “Eye’s fine.” A voice. Deep. Threatening by nature. It told her what she needed to know.

Even with the eye socket broken, the lighting prevented her from see anything inside. She wonder if he saw her other hand. The one that lingered over that pistol of her. Regardless of that answer, he freed her. Then turned around, giving her his back. It may have confused her, but there wasn’t time for that.

…

It was impressive how still everything was. Almost, scary. They had no forum of pain relief around to use. So he had to be feeling all this. The bits of rubble pulled from his flesh. Sting from what little disinfectant laid around. Every time a needle pushed through the skin. There was little reaction to any of it. This was a person right?

Mercy cleared her throat. “What’s your name?” Bedside manor was natural. Insuring. If not to both of them, it helps her.

“…Roadhog.”

Seems everyone needs an alias now. “How are you feeling?”

“Hmm…”

“…Is that… Good?” One could only assume.

“Could always be better.”

A new challenged dawns on her. Getting this man to speak. “The young man on the bed,” While he can’t see her, she still motions to the other “That a friend of yours? Who is he?”

“Junkrat.” He answered in a tired sigh, really speaking to himself. “Ain’t nothin’ but trouble.”

“…You sure caused a lot of ruckus out there to get to him.” The final patches are laid in place. “That trouble must be worth something to you, hm?”

“Hmph.”

This was either simple male pride, or a truly complicated duo here. A week chuck escapes her at the thought. “I’m all done back here. Now let’s take a look at your face.” Her hands roll over the straps. Hardly touching the leather before Roadhog shoots up, silently refusing her once more. “What are you doing?” The woman goes around in an attempt to stop him. “I’m not finished.”

“Good enough.” He growled. Aiming to pick up his comrade for a retreat. However, Mercy wasn’t about to let her work go unfinished. The woman got between them, standing firmly in place.

“No.” A small hand presses against the man. Pushing in motion, but clearly not budging the mass before her. “I don’t consider it ‘ _good enough’_. You can’t leave here until my job is complete. Sit.” This time, she points to a chair. Even after he takes a step forward, she does not move. “Have a seat, sir.”

“…”

Her arm rests. Taking in a deep breath. “Let me help you… please.”

“…” To her honest surprise, Roadhog complies. Following direction and sitting as requested. His pure mass added stress to the chair’s legs, but they managed to hold for now. He sat in silence. Hunched over for the doctor to proceed.

Mercy approaches him. A heavy feeling inside her was starting to grow inside her. It caused both hands to tremble lightly. And when she reached to remove the pig-face, the instinctive draw back from him only worsened it. Such reluctance to remove one’s masks. It was too familiar. This wasn’t solely for effect. It couldn’t be. There were others she knew, just like this.

_Inhale_

_1_

_2_

_3_

_Exhale._

No more resistance. They weren’t here. Not right now.

She brought the mask up. Taking it clean off the man’s face. Underneath was no beast. It no lessened any threat he could poss. There was little that yearned to be hidden away, if any at all. They were both human here. They were both alive. Unlike…

A gasp of breath escape her. She’s losing focus again. “I’m sorry.” The mask was placed on the side. Her hands swiftly moving about to get her things. Roadhog had been patient. No doubt curious, but with no need to pry. He’d been right about one thing. Eyes were fine. The cut was a heavy bleeder, with no real threat alone. It was, however, a grand contestant for infection. “It won’t take me too long.”

“Thanks.”

Sudden gratitude slowed her hand. “…Of course.” A forced smile shows briefly. “I don’t like to see anyone get hurt.” She inhales deeply. Failing to keep these emotion contained properly. “Roadhog…” They begin to leak. “…What is your name?”

Repetition to her question was not misunderstood. It was a sticky question to be sure. One he didn’t care to answer to many. Even his partner, the rat still passed out on the bed; didn’t always get an answer. Luckily, the younger man had a shit memory. That kid solum remembered how to count.

“This,” He reiterated. “Is Roadhog.”

“Is that all you’ve ever been?” She speaks calmly as she can, threading the needle for proper stitching.

“Been this way a while.” He speaks before she starts closing the gash.

“…I see.” Steadily, she cares for the flesh. Fearing to go too fast. The mix of new eyes, and a current state of mind was probable cause for error. Caution was her friend. “Before him though?”

“…Mako.”

“Mako.” She whips off the bloody stitches. A faint smile remains on her cheek. “It’s a lovely name.”

“…”

She sets her tools down. “You’re all patched up.” No exaggeration there. What on Earth was his stitch count? “Here you are.” She presents the man with his identity. Seeing no hesitation on his part to dawn the mask back to it’s former place. “I know you’ll be leaving now. But please be careful. Your stitches won’t hold if you go charging down hallways.”

“Got it.” He spoke slowly. Mercy moves back as he rises from the weary chair. Adjusting the leather pig-head accordingly. It gave the doctor more time to see the parts of him that escaped damage. There was an effort to, **_not_** focus on (arguably) the most attention grabbing part of this, Roadhog. But humans are too keen on noting abnormalities. She takes another step back to view his tattoo in full. It was just as large as the stomach it lay on. A hand came over her mouth in response. Muffling a light chuckle. This intimidating, mass of a man had a rather cute pig permanently inked into his skin. Fire and motorcycle façade aside, it was adorable.

A grunt called her attention, taking notice to her staring. “Uh? E-hem.” Feeling caught, she brought her hand down. Looking not the least bit suspicious. “…May I ask if you’re-“

“ _Meph_ - _ehh_ … Fucking hell…”

A new voice. High. Scratchy.

“Piece of over polished crap. I’ll track is down an- Oh goodie, again with this!?”

They both turned to the bed. Seeing the young man grabbing the stub of his arm.

“Hey! Roadhog! You see this!? Now we gotta get another fuckin-” His demand was cut short. Instead focusing on the two staring at him. More so to the woman beside his hired guard. “Heeheehee.” The devil’s smile crawls over his face. “Who is this? You making new friends while I’m out Hog? I must say, this is quite a shock! What’s your name _love_?”

Before anymore assumptions could be made, Roadhog bellows an irritated growl and grabs the chattering young man. Shoving him under his arm like a weightless sack.

“Oi! That hurts you cunt! I lost an arm, not a leg!” He continued to squirm with no away to escape. “Put me down already! _Neeeh! **ROADDIE**!_ ” The rude comments and thrashing continue to go ignored.

This whole thing made grasp their affiliation more difficult for the doctor. Mercy found herself staring once again. “Wait!” She calls out. Stopping them in the doorway. “Be careful out there.”

“…” The large man hesitated. Only responding with a single nod.

“’Kay seriously,” The young one stopped shouting to ask, “What the hell did you all talk about? What you say to him?” He was only given with a rough re-adjustment before getting hauled out of there. “What?! What happened!? You’re never that nice to _me_! What about _me,_ huh?!”

Mercy stood still. Holding another moment to herself to think. With the two of them together like that, there was something familiar about them. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.

**Author's Note:**

> [Thank you to waveofmelodies on Tumblr for Editing]


End file.
